


Just one last time

by natproms1 (littlethanktosomeoneachday)



Category: Touche Pas A Mon Poste ! RPF
Genre: Dating in Secret, Fill for a prompt, Grucho, M/M, UnDinerChezCamille
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 01:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6832816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlethanktosomeoneachday/pseuds/natproms1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine Cyril and Camille dating in secret. Cyril keep grucho duting UnDinerChezCamille. When he comes at camille’s flat, to give grucho, he takes that opportunitie of camille’s girlfriend in weekend in the south and the excuse of giving back grucho to camille’s to stay the night. Cyril just pretend to his wife he stayed take a drink. They were both waiting thay day and appreciate it, then they think for the first time in forver about brake up and live together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just one last time

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW-ish (like not sex scene or smut or whatever, just a few words here & there, nothing big)

“Wanna stay for a drink?” Camille asks as he unleashes the dog in the flat. He gets up, hands sliding into his jean pockets because he doesn’t really know what he is doing.

“Yeah, yeah, why not.” Cyril finally answers when he looks away from all the things that need to be cleaned up in the flat.  

They both know that they won’t be drinking much. They never do. And this time isn’t different.

Clothes are discarded quickly, scattered all over the floor as they make their way to the bedroom.

When the sun rises, which is only a few hours later, the light wakes them up. In their frenzy, they hadn’t closed the curtains. But they’re both too lazy to get up and do it so they lay in bed, tangled up, enjoying the warmth and closeness.  

They go for round 2 at some point, showering afterwards. Then they go back to bed, and to sleep with the curtains closed this time.

It’s well past 10 in the morning when they wake up again. This time, when Camille makes a move on Cyril, Cyril pushes him away.

“Remember you gotta work on that TV game of yours today.”

“I know, why you saying that?”

“You need all your energy, stamina, whatever. And anyway, I… should be going home…”

Camille loses that grin of his, falling back down on his pillows. But then he props himself up on his elbow, eyeing Cyril. “How about this one last time. When did we last do it in the morning?”

“About a couple of hours ago, something like that?” He says as he sits up on the bed, his back to Camille. Who reaches out to him, stroking his skin, grabbing his side, trying to make him come back to bed.

“Well then a third time in the span of…” Camille glances behind him at his bedside table and clock. “of 6 hours, something like that? We never did that.”

“Camille…” Cyril sighs as he gets up.  

He leaves the room, only wearing boxers. Camille’s, because his clothes are still scattered here and there in the flat.  

Camille follows him close, hands going to his hips again, turning him around and pushing him up against the wall just outside the kitchen.  

“Just one last time…” He whispers, leaning down to kiss Cyril’s neck.

“We are going to eat breakfast, that’s what we’re going to do.”

“How about I eat you out instead?” Camille says in hoarse voice, before biting down into Cyril’s shoulder. But before he has time to do anything else -like getting down on his knees, Cyril slaps his face away. “Camille, seriously.”  

“Alright…” Camille relents. Kissing Cyril’s skin one last time before stepping away. He turns to step into the kitchen but the sight that is facing him right now freezes his legs.

“Hi guys…”

“Abdoul. What the fuck around you doing here?” Camille exclaims as Cyril swiftly runs off to the living room, gathering his clothes.

“I told you last night I was staying in your guest room so we’d work on the game first thing in the morning.”

And only then it comes back to him. He remember nodding his head as he was ushered into the bathroom for some talk about the ongoing party.  

“I’m gonna go.” He hears behind him. When he turns around, Cyril already has his hand on the door handle.  

“Wait, Cyril.” And Cyril does stop in his track at abdoul’s words. “I’m not gonna say anything. It’s not my place. Just… if you two weren’t already with someone,” He clears his throat. “I’d say you’d make a nice couple.”

“What are you saying then?”

“That you do whatever the hell you want man! I won’t be the one telling anything to anyone. I suppose though, I should say don’t hurt your girlfriends.” And with that Cyril leaves.

* * *

“I’m not stupid Cyril. I know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“With Camille. I know it’s been going on for years.”

“He’s my friend.”

“The way you feel about him is obvious. I first thought it was gonna pass. That you’d replace him. Bertrand seemed the best candidate but things never really changed. Well…. Except that you stayed the night this time.”

“We had a drink and worked on his game.  

“Right. But you did marry him three weeks ago.“

“It was fake!”

“How you feel is obvious to everyone, not just the ones who know you. Matthieu didn’t even have the guts to do anything in Vegas.”

“Why are you telling me this then, if you knew all this time. “

“Because I didn’t think it would impact of marriage. But if your gonna stay at his place, I’d prefer if we discussed that before hand. For the sake of the kids, I don’t want us to break up, not yet but we have to set up some boundaries. If you’re gonna be with him, I still want you to be there in your kids’ lives.”

“Okay. “ He says in a breathe as he slumps down on the couch, running his fingers through his hair.

* * *

“You forgot your underwear at my place. “ Camille whispers in his ear as they greet one another at the radio.

Cyril steps away, staring at Camille’s grin. It feels weird now. He’s just discussed separation plans with his wife, because he was already starting to imagine a life with Camille. But… Camille doesn’t seem to be on the same page. His girlfriend most likely know.

“My wife knows.” He blurts out. They never did get married but it felt like they were.

Camille stars at him in disbelief for a minute longer before walking away.

He had spent the weekend trying not to imagine a life with Cyril. He’d never have him, that he knew. So he had spent the last few years thinking it was never going to be more than a one off. Now and then, but just something that would never be like a real relationship.

He wasn’t able to handle, at least for now, the thought of all the possibilities he denied himself all these years. So he dived into work, pushed those thoughts at the back of his mind and tried not to think about it anymore.

But the evening came and with that, his chronique. Standing there beside Cyril, saying his text, joking, having a laugh. Acting as the couple he wished they were.

“What does she know?” Camille asks as corners Cyril in the parking lot.

“Everything. She always knew…” Cyril answers in a low voice, looking down, playing with his car keys.

“What are you going to do? Maybe we should just stop seeing one another? I’ll work on my side of things, you’ll just be the producer. She’ll take you back for sure!” He says in a frenzy, hands in his hair, pushing them back nervously.

“Camille, Camille.” Cyril starts, stops, takes a breath, waits for Camille to face him again. “We are going to break up. I’m not going to move out, neither is she. For now, for the kids. But eventually, I will move out. We’ll just take it slowly so the children aren’t too shocked.”

“You’re leaving her?!”

“Not really. We just agreed we wanted different things out of our relationship.”

“And she’s not even fighting for you?”

“She fought, for years. But I never did come home early, or did fight for my relationship myself. I mean… at some point, unconsciously, I stopped being all in in our relationship and… she fought for it but eventually, I stopped making it worth the fight. And I have no right to hold her back now.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know…”

“I’m not leaving Celine.”  

“And I’m not asking you to.” Cyril tells him, even though it hurts like hell to hear these words. He won’t deny he wished Camille dropped everything to be with him right there and then.

“I should get going.” Camille ends up saying.  

* * *

When he arrives home, Celine isn’t in bed already. It’s late thought. After leaving D8, he had driven around, going nowhere.

She greets him with her usual kiss as she takes his coat. She hangs it up, tells him diner is ready, “might be cold though. It’s Chinese by the way.”. And she goes back to watching whatever she is watching on TV.

But Camille’s mind isn’t taking it. It could be Cyril greeting him. Or he could be the one greeting Cyril coming back from a prime or whatever he would be doing. He’d have ordered a pizza for him. And they’d be sitting side by side on the couch.

“Celine.” He starts, looking at her but not really seeing her. “I’m in love with Cyril.” He blurts out.

“Yes, I know.” She chuckles.

“I’m serious.” His voice is flat. He can’t believe he is doing that but he can’t stop himself, he feels like a robot. And she finally turns to face him, sitting properly on the couch. “We’ve been… together. Now and then. Even before I met you. It never was a regular thing. But… I can’t lie anymore.” There is no tone in his voice, it sounds lifeless, as if someone else was saying that and not him.

Without really knowing how, he finds himself on his doormat, bag in hand, Celine closing the door on his back. After the tears and the screams, she had packed him a bag and thrown him out with it.  

He knows how he ends up in that situation, he brought it on himself. But he doesn’t actually exactly know what was said or done in the past hour that led up to this moment. To him standing there, in the hallway, lights off because the timer ran out.

He had spent the weekend wishing he was with Cyril. Cyril had admitted to him being ready to leaving his wife. Cyril had made the first move. And when the thought had sounded so crazy, he still wanted to be with Cyril. He had said he couldn’t leave Celine and yet, it was exactly what he had done. There was no going back, but where was he going now…

* * *

“Aren’t we going too fast?” Cyril wondered as they visited their third flat of the day.

After Camille had left Celine, he had gone to a hotel, phoning Cyril on the way. They had agreed not to rush into anything. To settle both their relationship first. Cyril had talked to his children a few months later when they had started dating. Well what they could call dating. They were simply seeing one another off work, as usual. But this time, allowing themselves to… be more than friendly. And now that Cyril was moving out, they both needed a lace to stay. Camille had found a little something instead of paying a hotel room for weeks. But it wasn’t meant for a couple. Even if they had trouble calling themselves like that. So now they were looking for a place for the both of them. One they both liked, one where they would live together. Share a life, everyday life, share meals and nights and disputes and happy memories. Everything.  

Camille came up behind him, hugged him, nestling his head in the crook of his neck. “Haven’t we waited long enough?” He whispered.

“What movie is that from?” Cyril chuckled as he held onto Camille’s hands over his stomach.

“I don’t remember, but it fits us. We’ve known each other for a decade after all.”

“Did you fall in love with me then?”

“I don’t know. I think I just grew to love you.”

“Well, I fell in love with you then. First time I saw you. Shook your hand and you looked at me and that was it.”

Camille turns him around and says “Really?” in a knowing tone, eyebrows raised.  

“No. But I do love you.” Cyril laughs as he closes the gap between them and kisses Camille.  

Someone coughs behind them and they step away from one another.

“Sorry.”

“It’s just that if you don’t like the place, we can go see another one.”

“Well…” Cyril looks at Camille. “It does fit all the criteria? And I don’t know… it already feels like home.” He adds as he takes Camille’s hand, never looking away from him.  

Camille breaks the eye contact to look around. “Yeah… I could see ourselves living here.” He says.

They both look at the realtor. “We’ll take it then.” They say at the same time with a smile on both their faces.

Then Camille looks back at Cyril. “I love you too!” He says excitedly as he leans down and kisses him. A chaste kiss this time.


End file.
